


paper crown

by inkwelled



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Coronation, Established Relationship, F/F, Family Dynamics, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Mutual Pining, Political Alliances, Post-Canon, Resignation Letter, Rest and relaxation, coming home, have they ever interacted? no. will i ship them regardless? you bet your ass, it's what we and he deserve, viren is executed for his crimes against the katolis crown bc i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwelled/pseuds/inkwelled
Summary: She takes a deep breath and raps her knuckles against the mahogany doors of the King’s study before she loses her nerve. Despite the shaking of her hands, it seems to echo in her ears.“Enter,” the voice inside calls. Though she wants to turn tail and swallow her suddenly-dry tongue all at once, Opeli pushes open the doors.





	paper crown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starryscorpios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryscorpios/gifts).



> title ; [paper crown](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1867326/paper-crown/) by kato locke
> 
> hELLO FARELI HAS TAKEN OVER MY LIFE FOR A WHILE NOW BUT I FOUND THREE (3) OTHER STANS ON TWITTER AND FINALLY HAD THE COURAGE TO WRITE THEM KNOWING I HAD AN AUDIENCE SO shoutout to twitter users thewlwswin, floraladora and sorgrcn. y'all are the REAL mvps.
> 
> this got way more opeli and ezran than opeli/fareeda BUT they're still a big part and more fareli fics are to come bc im in fareli HELL and there's no light at the end of this self-imposed hell that i'm quite content to stay in.
> 
> enjoy!

She takes a deep breath and raps her knuckles against the mahogany doors of the King’s study before she loses her nerve. Despite the shaking of her hands, it seems to echo in her ears.

“Enter,” the voice inside calls. Though she wants to turn tail and swallow her suddenly-dry tongue all at once, Opeli pushes open the doors.

King Ezran sits behind his desk by the window, circlet sitting on the surface next to two framed pictures. One, Opeli knows is from his father’s official portrait with his family and next to that, the framed version of Ezran’s official portrait, complete with Callum, Rayla, herself and Amaya.

When the door swings open, he looks up and although there’s lines around his eyes from stress, they crinkle happily when he smiles at her.

“Opeli,” Ezran greets her warmly as he sets down his quill. “I didn’t know you were coming. I would’ve had Margaret fetch us tea.”

She smiles weakly. “I’m sorry for not giving you a warning, Your Majesty. I promise I won’t be long so the tea is no problem.”

Ezran waves off her apology but ever-observant and intuitive, his eyes snag on her arms, tucked behind her body and the fact she isn’t in her ceremonial robes or circlet.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Something the matter? I wasn’t expecting another report on our trade routes until the end of the month –“

“I’m leaving,” Opeli blurts before wincing.

Ezran’s eyebrows shoot upwards and somehow furrow all at once. She barrels on before he can open his mouth, knowing she’s probably already lost her chance it but determined for him to hear her case anyway.

“I’m leaving,” she says repeats hurriedly, “and I’m sorry but I hope you understand. I’ve been around for a while and I appreciate my position but I’m tired _all the time_ and I haven’t slept proper since the end of the war and I think it’s time that I move on but I won’t if you need me here, Your Highness, of course the kingdom comes before the person –“

Ezran’s hands wrap around hers. Opeli blinks – she doesn’t remember moving her hands from behind her or Ezran standing to come around his desk.

“Opeli,” he says quietly but firmly. She finds she can’t look away. “Opeli, why didn’t you come to me sooner about this?”

She gulps and squirms a bit in place but Ezran’s kind eyes have her pinned. “You needed me here for so long,” she finally whispers, hoarse, “as did your father. My duty was – is – to the throne before anyone else, including myself. But now...”

Trailing off, Opeli closes her eyes.

“...but now you no longer feel needed,” Ezran murmurs, finishing her sentence. She shakes her head vigorously as she opens her eyes.

“No, Your Majesty, it’s not that! I’m just –“

“– _tired_ ,” Ezran finishes again and she finds she can’t lie.

She’s exhausted, whittled down to the bone. Until Ezran was twelve, she held the throne of Katolis as a part of the High-Council and Master of Ceremonies. She’s survived a coup of the throne and watched as the man responsible, the late King’s advisor, was hung.

“ _Yes_ ,” she whispers and releases a breath as she lowers her head.

Ezran’s fingers softly extract the crumbled roll of parchment from her fingers and she opens her eyes. The King is smiling at her, understanding in the eyes Opeli’s seen before in his father.

“Okay.”

Opeli blinks, mouth opening to protest that she’ll stay if he needs her until her mind catches up.

Her mouth snaps shut. “What?” She says so quietly she can barely hear herself, voice trembling with every letter.

Ezran only smiles as he unravels the letter, scans it quickly and looks back up.

“Okay,” he repeats and she holds her breath as he lights the red candle and drips the wax onto the bottom of the letter before pushing the gold-handled stamp into the warm wax.

Tears prick at her eyes as he nods at the seal, rolls it back up and turns to hand it to her.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she says shakily as she takes it.

“It’s Ezran,” the King reminds her gently as he leans back against the desk “It’s my pleasure, Opeli. Honestly. But where will you go? Do you need me to write you a letter of recommendation?”

Opeli chuckles. “Thank you,” she repeats, “for everything. But I don’t need a letter of recommendation, not in Evenere.”

She says the last part shyly.

His eyes sparkle knowingly, looking every part his father’s son and Opeli blushes. She has a sneaking suspicion he'd known for a while, when he sent her to Pentarchy meetings even after he'd taken the throne and she was just Master of Ceremonies and High-Council member again.

“I hear it’s beautiful this time of year,” Ezran muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “or did I hear that about their Queen? I can’t seem to remember.”

“We both know I’m not going for the topography,” Opeli says, smiling.

They both chuckle for a moment before Ezran stands.

“Do you need help packing? It’s only fitting I help my right-hand woman one last time as she’s helped me for all these years.”

“I would love that,” Opeli grins and Ezran gestures for her to lead the way.

“I’ll be right back,” he says as the door to his study shuts behind him. “But go ahead to deliver this to Crow Master, if you would.”

She takes the thick envelope. “Of course. One last errand, I suppose?”

Ezran’s smile is knowing.

“Yes, I suppose,” he muses and disappears down the hall as she turns to deliver his letter.

* * *

An hour later she’s packed and there’s a carriage out front and a ticket being pressed into her hand. Opeli looks down and sees it’s a ship ticket – destination Evenere from the farthest port.

It’s a first-class ship.

“I can’t take this,” she protests and tries to push it back into Ezran’s hands after he’s hefted her only trunk into the rack above the body’s carriage. “It’s too much, your H – Ezran. _Please_. Take it. I don’t need a fancy carriage or a ship ticket.”

Ezran smiles and curls her hand around the paper. “Nonsense. You’ve been an invaluable help to the royal family of Katolis for almost more years than I’ve been alive. Let me do this for you. I know Mom and Dad would’ve wanted me to.”

Opeli sighs but Ezran looks at her beseechingly.

“ _Please_ , Opeli. _Take it.”_

Hesitantly, she wraps her hand around it. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “For everything.”

“No,” Ezran says as he squeezes the fist she has around the ticket before pulling her into a hug, “thank _you_. You’ve done so much for us, for _me_ , this is the least I could do.”

Opeli curls her arm around Ezran’s shoulders.

“I didn’t do that much,” she chuckles. Ezran pulls back to stare her down.

“You’re done so much,” he stresses, fingers digging slightly into her shoulders to make her listen, understand. Opeli doesn’t have a reason not to listen, fully taken by the determination for her to hear what he’s saying. He’s always been like this – even as a child.

A valuable talent in a child king, she thinks. _Or was a valuable asset._ He's no longer a child.

Ezran keeps talking. “You’ve done so much for Katolis and for me. You were my mother’s closest friend besides her sister and my father’s Master of Ceremonies. You were here,” he gulps suddenly, “when my mother wasn’t, not by her own doing.”

_“Ezran –“_

“You’re like a mother to me,” he confesses quietly and continues as if he hasn’t stolen her breath and snatched the ground from beneath her. “You were my mother when Sarai passed and Harrow was busy with a kingdom in a famine and everything that came with it. I know – I know Callum would agree with me if he was here.”

Ezran grasps her hands in his as his own move from her shoulders.

She can’t look away. “Ezran –“ she chokes but he’s on a roll.

“You were here when Viren tried to take the throne, you were the one that arrested him and kept him accountable when he was reasonable. You took the throne when I couldn’t and held it fast until I could. You’ve been as much as part of my life as my brother. Let me do this for you, Opeli. As much as you’ve done for me.”

“Okay,” she says hoarsely, _“okay.”_

She’s the one that hugs him first this time. Opeli buries her face in his chest – he’s grown so much, he’s almost a head and a half taller than her – and lets herself cry.

“Please don’t cry,” Ezran urges as he holds her closer. “Opeli, I’m sorry if I made you sad –“

He tries to pull away but she won’t let him. “You’ve been like a son to me,” she says, equally as quiet as when he confessed she was like a mother. “I’ve watched you grow, I saw your ability with animals long before anyone else. I – I love you, Ezran.”

Ezran makes a mournful yet happy sound and crushes her closer. She has no protests.

“Opeli,” he chants into her hair, “Opeli. I love you too. So much.”

She doesn’t know how long they stay like that but at some point, one of the horses whinnies and stomps its hooves, impatient and they both pull back with a chuckle. Opeli stoops to pick up her bag – a single steamer bag with her coin purse and a cloak in case the nights get cold, as well as the letter from Evenere.

“Let me,” Ezran says and she hands it over with an amused smile.

“I can do it.”

Ezran chuckles as he opens the door to the carriage. “I know, but I want to. Please.”

“Alright,” she concedes and puts her hand in his when he offers to help her into the carriage. “Thank you again.”

“My pleasure,” Ezran says as she steps into the interior. She sits and he passes over the steamer bag. “Does Queen Fareeda know you’re coming?”

Opeli smiles. “I should hope so. She was the one who offered to take me in when I asked.”

“Not surprised," Ezran says with a laugh. "So this has been a long thing coming?”

“Yes,” she confesses apologetically, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner about it.”

Although the horses are definitely rearing to go now more than before, Ezran takes a step closer and places a hand on her knee. She’s in a simple burgundy shift, having left her ceremonial robes and circlet in her bedroom, although she thinks Ezran must have sent someone to collect them because when they got to her room to pack, they were gone from her coverlet.

“It’s fine, really,” Ezran reminds her with a soft smile.

She smiles back easily, eyes still stinging slightly from their confessions a few minutes before. “Oh, before I go. I have a present for you.”

“Another?” Opeli says as she smiles. “You’ve already given me so many, Ezran. Please, no more.”

“One more,” he promises, “and that’ll be it. Promise.”

“Alright.”

Instead of saying a thing, he pulls something out of the bag by his side she had noticed when she hugged him earlier and thought it to just be papers or something he had to attend to later when he had sent her off.

It’s bright, gleaming in the sunlight, polished silver –

Opeli sucks in a sharp sigh.

“My circlet,” she breathes. “I can’t take this, Ez, it’s not mine –“

“It is yours,” he stresses and wraps her limp fingers around the cold metal. “Take it, Opeli. We’ll never find anyone like you again and I couldn’t bear to see this on anyone else as if there will be anyone else.”

“I thought we were done with the tearful speeches,” Opeli murmurs.

Ezran chuckles tearfully. “I’m done now. Just take it with you and promise to write regularly.”

“Promise.”

Opeli stoops to pull him close again. Right before she sits up she presses a kiss to the side of his head right above his ear and murmurs. “Sarai loved you both. I’m sorry to leave like she did.”

In her arms, Ezran chokes on a sob as he pulls back but takes both of her hands in his, her right still clutching her circlet.

“You’ll come back one day,” he whispers, “I hope. I love my mother and I love you, Opeli. Will you promise me?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Promise me you’ll visit sometime soon.”

Repeating the words she seems to be saying a lot of today, she smiles and cups his cheek. _“I promise.”_

He kisses her palm before stepping back and closing the carriage door.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Opeli laughs. “I’m counting on it.”

The King then whistles to the driver and the carriage jerks as it pulls away. They circle the courtyard once before leaving and the entire time, Opeli gazes through the back window until the castle’s turrets disappear behind the treetops.

She turns around and looks down at the circlet in her hand, the ticket in the other.

A few tears slip down her cheeks as she smooths a kiss to the polished surface of the circlet. “I love you,” she whispers and closes her eyes indulgently before looking out the window.

Opeli looks down at the letter in her lap from her steamer bag. Her name, curled in elegant script, followed by a small heart.

She opens it.

_My dear Opeli,_

_I hope this letter finds you on the road into my kingdom and into my arms. I eagerly await your arrival and have already arranged you a room right down the hall from mine but you know you are welcome any time._

_Your love,_

_Fareeda._

The signed name is flourished at the end and Opeli laughs tearily.

_Additionally – do you think King Ezran would mind an open trade route for peat? I know coal is in short supply in Katolis these days and after all, a political marriage would constitute advantages for either kingdom._

_A conversation at your leisure._

Sitting back in the carriage, Opeli tucks the letter and ship ticket back into her bag – in a vehicle such as this, the regular four-day journey to port will take two days at most because she won’t need to stop for an inn because there are two drivers.

The circlet settles on her brow like a lover’s kiss, something Opeli aches to know well.

By Fareeda’s letter, she knows she will.

* * *

The sun is shining the day her ship arrives in Evenere.

Opeli walks into the kingdom and inhales the heavy but pleasant – she thinks, at least – scent of the distant swamps, water sources all around. While Evenere is by the far the hardest to get to, a day’s journey across the sea, she feels at home when she descends the plank.

The crowds part and there she is – completely alone and missing her entourage.

Fareeda is beautiful.

In the daylight, without her royal robes and decorum, the queen of Evenere’s red hair glows against her pale skin. Opeli’s only seen her in the filtered light of the Pentarchy meeting place and once, at a ball across the room where she knows they both longed to dance.

It was improper then but she’s no longer a Katolian High-Council member and the war is over. 

They fell in love there, thrones across from each other in an arching circle. They fell in love there, talking trade routes and the peace talks with Xadia when the Dragon Prince was returned to the Queen of Dragons and Callum and Rayla returned home as heroes. 

Without missing a beat, the two women collide in the middle.

Fareeda holds her as if she’s precious and fragile, easily breakable and with a look that confirms it’s okay, Opeli leans up on her tip-toes and kisses her. Years in the making, their lips slotting together makes Opeli want to fall to her knees because they seem to shake.

“Welcome home.” Fareeda murmurs when they pull back and Opeli’s circlet rests against the crown on Fareeda’s own forehead.

Katolis and Evenere.

She’s of both kingdoms and Fareeda intends to make it official, Opeli knows.

They have all the time in the world, though. Right now. They both know it when Fareeda leans back in and Opeli does the same.

* * *

A year later, Ezran’s going over trade routes with Xadia when there’s a rap on the Great Hall’s doors.

“Come in!” he calls without looking up.

Two sets of footsteps come near and he’s talking before he’s even lifted his head. “Hello –“

His voice stutters to a halt.

Opeli smiles, hand wrapped around Queen Fareeda’s.

 _Queen Consort_ Opeli, he should say. Her hair is over her shoulder in a braid and he doesn’t miss the circlet still on her forehead, accompanied by the same looping sides that grace Fareeda’s crown as well.

She stands tall and strong in the colors of Evenere, dark red and taupe accented with gold and black, so different to her white robes and silver circlet of Katolis.

The only metal that isn't gold is the silver on her brow. She looks every inch of the monarch Ezran always knew she held herself to be.

It doesn’t escape his notice, the absence of dark circles under her eyes.

He's glad.

 _“Mom,”_ he murmurs and flies into the already-waiting arms.

King Ezran of Katolis is almost twenty-five yet he’s a little kid again when she tucks him against her slight body and spins a curl around her finger.

Opeli holds him close. “Hello, darling.”

“You’ve come home,” he whispers when he pulls back. Even all these years later, he towers over her.

She smiles. “I promised, didn’t I?”

They’re both smiling tearily when he presses his lips to the space between her circlet. “You did,” he murmurs. “I thank you.”

“You should be thanking my fiancée,” Opeli chuckles. “I didn’t pay for the trip. Didn’t she tell you of our arrival?”

There’s silence and Opeli turns to Fareeda, mouth hanging open.

“You said you would tell him!” she cries with a laugh.

Fareeda’s smile is indulgent as she steps close. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” she giggles. “It worked didn’t it, my love?”

“He was surprised,” Opeli grouses but she’s still smiling.

Ezran has a sneaking suspicion she’s always smiling nowadays – so different to when he knew her. The lines around her mouth aren’t from stress, her eyes aren’t heavy with the weight of the world but light with sunlight and laughter, crinkling when she smiles.

The only heaviness in her eyes is pure adoration when she looks at Fareeda.

Fareeda pulls him into a hug, ignoring years of tradition. She’s closer to his height and after a moment of surprise, he hugs her back.

The Queen of Evenere’s mouth levels with his ear.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For letting me have her.”

Ezran meets Opeli’s eyes as she talks to one of the guards, someone she knew, perhaps. He smiles.

“She gave herself to you,” he murmurs, “and no. Thank _you_ , for giving her back her smile.”

Fareeda turns in his arms and they both watch as Opeli laughs at something the guard’s said – _Noa_ , Ezran thinks her name is. He makes a mental note to ask Noa later how she knows Opeli out of pure curiosity.

“It was my pleasure.”


End file.
